


Into the rear view mirror

by DoctorJoker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Beta Wanted, Cynicism, F/M, Gen, Not Beta Read, Past, Severus Snape-centric, Time Travel, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-13 21:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18039758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorJoker/pseuds/DoctorJoker
Summary: It's the classical Snape-dies-and-finds-himself-in-his-past-formular. But he isn't the only time-traveller.





	1. Snape reloaded

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There is cursing, death and probably violence.

„You fucking humans, you.“ Slowly, but steadily Snape’s brain got a grip on itself. He felt nice. Warm. Fuzzy. And something else, a feeling, he couldn’t quite pin down yet.

“All you do is destroy and kill, murder, slaughter and rape, abuse and hate.” The voice was nice, too. It was a female voice, with a nice deep timbre in it. He could listen to it for hours.

“The fucking world wars weren’t enough for you lot, no, you little ‘special’ magic-wankers had to make some wars of your own.”

The feeling was pleasant in his bones but utterly foreign to his mind.

“All the lives lost or destroyed.” There was so much hurt in her voice. “Why?”

Severus felt strangely compelled to give an answer although he didn’t have much of one.

“And why do I still care?” Exasperation now coloured every syllable in her sentence. He heard a dry chuckle. “You.” On word, so full of stealth. “You, would you be stupid enough to relive the wars?”

He now knew, what the feeling inside him was. He felt safe. For the first time in his life.

“Relive torture of body, mind and soul, sacrifice a peaceful death, just for the slight chance of relieving the misery for others.”

Lily.

“Maybe righting your wrongdoings. But far more certainly just experiencing all your losses for a second time.”

Lily, Lily, Lily.

“She is here, you know. And she has forgiven you. Death does that with people, they get all sentimental and understanding. Shifts your perspective if you’re able to see everything. If you just want to re-join with her, you just have to let go of your past. Just die.”

No.

“Ah, yes. You were never able to do that, were you?”

There was a pause filled with pure nothingness.

“You’re a first, you know”, her voice was silent now, contemplating. “To accept my offer. Your guilt must be quite strong. Albus Dumbledore, he refused.”

The warm feeling began to drip out of Severus like liquid out of a sponge being squeezed tighter and tighter. The liquid was a dark, crimson red.

Red eyes. Staring at him. Daring him to lie but ultimately trusting him. Completely. Pain in his throat. The Weakness, coming with blood loss, a chilling pretaste to death. Red eyes boring into him. Lily. Death.

He was shook in the world of the living by harsh, calloused hands. They were buried in the front of his T-shirt he currently was wearing. His father was yelling something about Severus being a little girl for crying in his sleep. And yes, Severus’ throat felt raw. Severus brought his hands up to desperately cling to his father’s arms, whose harsh features now had a grim sort of satisfaction etched into them, whilst still shaking his son so hard that Severus head bobbed forth and back.

Finally, he threw Severus back on his little bed and growled lowly: “Don’t you dare make so much noise again.”

Severus came out of his stupor when the door closed behind the bulky man’s back. What just happened? His head hurt. Normally, when he had dreams like that, the injuries didn’t linger into his awakened state. And he was certain to be awake now. Even though he was in his childhood room. Even though, when he looked down his body, he had the lanky composition of a teenager. He noticed that his breathing had quickened and slammed his Occlumency shields down. They were quite useful like that. Protecting one, from one’s own thoughts. And feelings.

So… think, Severus. What happened? He stretched himself out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Someone offered you to send you back in time. And here you are… He rose out of his bed to look at his desk, 6th year books, a quick glance out of his window revealed bald trees and snow slush on the streets. It seemed safe to assume that it was, indeed, not summer anymore. He remembered now. He had spent Christmas in Malfoy manor. And New Year’s Eve. And then gone home. One could stand only so much of the famous Malfoy charm. He had arrived at night, nobody had noticed him. He noted his closed trunk on the floor. He bend down, opening the buckles of his trunk. Everything was still in there, still unpacked. He closed his eyes. He had just arrived. The next day… It had been early. He had searched for his mother.

Like in trance, he opened his door, and repeated his actions from so long ago. Searching the house, all the while staying clear of his father’s cheerful presence. It had been strange that his father should start his drinking so early, that he had been so violent. Normally, this kind of behaviour was reserved for the late evenings, maybe afternoons. What he’d just seen came back to him. The face of his father violently shoved itself in front of his eyes. There had been tear strains. Severus paused with his hand on the doorknob for his parent’s bedroom. He didn’t want to open it. But he couldn’t stop himself either. He watched his right hand turning the knob and then, slowly, pushing the door. It squeaked. As the gap between wall and door became marginally larger, it revealed an unmade bed. The sheets laid dishevelled on the mattress, one of the pillows had fallen down. Grey walls. Stained. With strains of mould. A lonely lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. And then, finally, the door was open. And Severus saw. The window. An overthrown stool in front of it. The dark silhouette blocking the light. His hands were shaking, and his back was drenched in sweat. There had always been this useless little hook in the ceiling of his parent’s bedroom. As he was younger, Severus always wondered (loud, to the displeasure of his father) what this mysterious piece of metal was doing there. His mother had explained that people stored things like that. That this room probably hadn’t always been a bedroom. Maybe a pantry. Or anything. That such a hook in the ceiling could be very useful. It seemed like the silhouette in front of the window swayed silently.

He turned around and ran for the bathroom. As he vomited into the loo, he noticed distractedly some pieces of carrot in this green-brownish mess. It seemed to go on and on forever until he noticed that he was merely dry-heaving now. He tried to calm himself and raised a still shaking hand to flush his puke away, and set there, for a moment, on his knees. It still stank of sickness in the small room and he somehow was standing in their corridor now and stumbled on.

It was raining. He didn’t know where he was. The shaking hadn’t stopped. His fingers had an interesting colour of violet, he noticed. The chattering of his teeth was quite loud and the goose bumps on his bare arms were almost violently prominent. It was funny, his fingers didn’t seem to comply to his wishes anymore. He had his whole focus on trying to form a fist with his left hand (quite a difficult task), when he suddenly heard a cold but familiar voice. He looked up, confused. And saw Lily. He tried to smile but that didn’t seem to work either. It was a nice hallucination.

 

The raining had gone away now. The cold also. He was sitting on a sofa, wrapped into a blanket and someone had placed a mug of tea in front of him. He stared at the hot liquid, wrapped his hands around its container. It hurt, the temperature gap between his cold fingers and the hot mug. But he didn’t mind.

“What happened, Severus?” Her voice was there, again. He looked up, and smiled at her form in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Severus?”, she sounded concerned and a bit impatient.

He wracked his brain. What did she want from him? “I’m sorry, Lily.”

“What for?”, her face immediately hardened.

“F-for everything.” His jaw chattering hadn’t stopped completely. “For calling you th-that word.” For getting your son killed.

She looked confused now and set herself on an armchair in front of him. “Severus” He looked up into her green eyes. Oh, how he had missed them. “What happened to you? I find you in nothing more than jeans and T-shirt, sitting in the snow in front of my house, almost freezing yourself to death. And…”, she put one of her hands forward and touched his skull behind his left ear, her fingertips red, when she draw her hand back: “You’re bleeding?” Severus remembered now. When his father shook him, his skull had connected to the wall briefly. It hadn’t seemed important then.

“I fell.”, his voice felt rusty from his lie: “It’s nothing.” He still looked into her eyes and suddenly felt the urge to tell her the truth: “Mum died.”

Her reaction was immediately. She sat back, her eyes big and wide: “What?”, it came out soft, disbelieving. “How?”

He swallowed and turned his head, looked out of the window, out on the small backyard the Evans possessed. It was bleak and empty, only a big crow sitting on the bald hedge. He focused his eyes on the black bird.

“She”, he moistened his lips with his tongue: “She”, his voice broke. He started again: “It was suicide.” The bird now combed its feathers with his beak.

He startled and almost spilled his tea, when he felt a warm touch. He looked disbelieving down. Lily had laid her right hand on his left forearm. It was a long time ago that someone had initiated well-meaning human contact with him. His whole body was tense, his knuckles white around the mug of tea. He forcefully reminded himself that this was Lily, and she would never hurt him. Unless of course he deserved it. He allowed himself to relax gradually. She smiled sadly at his reaction but left her hand on his arm. He looked away. Her hand helped.

They sat like that for quite some time, in companionable silence.

The doorbell rang. Both of them flinched violently, Severus even jumped a bit. Lily excused herself to answer the door. Severus nodded, and played with his wand. Drawing it had been a reflex, after working for one year with the Carrows. The black wood shined in the light of the overhead.

There seemed to be a lot of people in the corridor, four or five, Snape’s brain immediately estimated based on the noises. Having them all stuffed up in the small corridor should give him a slight fighting advantage and the backdoor should supply him with an amiable retreat option. He immediately scolded himself for these kinds of thoughts, Lily would certainly not mingle with a bunch of hostile individuals, being always vigilant had been his past, or his future, however you wanted to look at it.

But then he heard a familiar laughter composed of four separate ones; a shrill, nervous one, a quiet chuckle, and two self-assured howls of pure mirth. Mixed, for all the worse, with the giggling of Lily. He was up and at the backdoor before his brain had even formed a conscious thought. Stopped was he only by a quiet “Sev” from behind. He turned around and looked at Lily, who now stood in the middle of the living room. “I… I had invited them over, because mum and dad are visiting Tuney and the house is a bit lonely without other people. I mean, I originally only wanted to invite James but you know…”

“Lily”, he interrupted her softly: “You’re rambling again.”

“Oh”, she blinked: “Yes.”

There they were now, standing in the nice, little, cosy living room of the Evans, Severus right next to their Christmas tree. They stared at each other, longing for their familiarity lost and at the same time willing the last pieces of it to go away.

“I’ll”, Severus swallowed and turned to the door: “I’ll just go.”

“It’s still raining.”

He laughed cynically: “Believe me, I’ll manage. It is by far not the worst that has ever happened to me.”

His swift exit left Lily no time to reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Snape stood in his black school robes next to his mother’s final sanctuary. It was inside a great mausoleum, the Prince family’s, all white and black marble. Imposing and dark, an unforgiving, severe structure towering over Snape’s head. There were some black-clad figures here with him, all eager to take Eileen back in their midst, now, that she was no longer able to talk back. But it was still a rather small ceremony, only the closest of her family were to be burdened with the truly unfortunate reminder of the failure of her existence. He heard something about a “Waste of pure blood” and that a death like hers “had been only to be expected”.

The presence of her bastard son was tolerated but not accepted by all these witches and wizards who hadn’t seen her the last twenty years but nevertheless claimed to be her family. He was, after all, one of two reasons her family had severed all ties with Eileen Prince. The other one was busy lying in his own vomit, after trying to drink himself to death.

Severus stayed back, when the rest of his family deemed to have expressed their mourning in a satisfactory manner and wanted to move on to more tangible matters like the funeral meal.

_„S_ _pectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae.“_ _(“They come to watch, they come to be watched themselves.” - Ovid)_

Snape quoted in his mind with a bitter smirk on his lips. He quietly laid a hand on his mother’s coffin and closed his eyes. He hadn’t been here since the last time his mother had died. It had hurt too much. It still hurt too much. But her proximity, somehow, also helped. Tomorrow, on his birthday, he would ride back to Hogwarts, with all the other pupils. He would have to speak with Albus about his knowledge of the future.

He felt a tear forming in his left eye and quickly brushed it away with his sleeve. In his last life, he hadn’t cried since Lily… and now he did it again? Hopefully he wasn’t losing his touch. What worth was he if he couldn’t even keep his emotions in check? Control was key.

When he finally left the tomb, the rain raised a grey wall around him, keeping him apart from the rest of this world.

 

He used a cab to go back home, because he was still an underage wizard, at least in body, and none of his relatives gave a damn about his wellbeing. He didn’t even know most of their names or faces. Even in his other life, he was never interested enough to investigate his family tree.

He looked out of the cab’s window, contemplating his life. If it went anything like last time, his father would still live when Severus left for his train the next day and then just disappear before Severus could complete his OWLs. Probably getting himself killed without Eileen to keep him in check. Probably wanting to die, just like his wife. Severus couldn’t bring himself to care. Who was he, to stop someone from their self-destructive life-styles? His had ended by giant snake, at the age of 39.

But the past had already altered itself in one other aspect. Lily. Last time, he hadn’t been so out of it to search for companionship in his former friend. But one thing that confused Severus more than anything had been her friendliness. It had almost seemed like she still liked him.

The houses passing the car window became shabbier, the clue for Severus to search in his pockets for the rests of his mother’s secret stash of Muggle money. He had figured that his mother didn’t need it anymore and his father didn’t deserve to drink it away.

When the cab halted, Severus paid the driver and hurried through the rain in his house. He passed the kitchen, noting the strong smell of beverage and the loud snoring noises from under the table. He quickly climbed up the stairs and closed the door to his room. He spent the rest of his holidays watching a fly making its way along a crack in his wall.

 

Severus Snape stood at platform 9 ¾, with all this noise and people. Pondering that he was surrounded by dead person. Himself being one. One of the little kids speeding around almost run him down. He reacted by unleashing a colourful description about just how he would suck the brain out of the little boy’s nose, slice it, and use it for a potion that would make even his best friends and closest family forget he even existed, if he ever dared to replicate this event. The red haired and freckled boy seemed to listen intently before his eyes grew wide and he whirled away as quickly as possible. It appeared to Snape that his shadow lingered.

Severus sighed and pinched his nose. He possibly just traumatized one of the countless and annoying Weasley brats.

He found himself an empty apartment and used a ‘Notice-me-not-charm’ to ensure his privacy. As he looked out of the train window, he saw the boy again, clinging frightfully to the ropes of the Weasley-matriarch, who seemed awfully similar to a dragon mother, the way her eyes gleamed as she cradled the boy protectively in her arms.

The smirk on his face didn’t quite make it full force as he had to witness this freely given display of love, and he quickly buried his long nose in his old potions text book. It had been his mother’s before. He suddenly didn’t want to touch it anymore.

It was a long and lonely journey towards Hogwarts.

 

The train stopped, Snape, levitating his trunk in front of him, got out of his compartment and got into an empty carriage in the hopes of staying alone. His heart almost stopped when the head of Har- James Potter bopped into the little enclosed space, followed by the rest of the pureblood’s body and his closest friend, who greeted Snape with a mocking “Eeeey, Snivelus.”. Potter wore a pleasant smile, whilst Black seemed to have settled for a predatory grin, which reminded Snape far too much of his dog-form. Severus just mustered the other two wearily, having not abandoned his relaxed posture, but cradling his wand with his left hand. The shadows inside the carriage seemed to have grown.

There seemed to be a bit of a power struggle going on in front of the carriage and finally a body moved in next to Snape, which he recognised to his surprise as Lily.

“James.”, she hissed, and the boy in question looked appropriately frightened: “What’s this supposed to be?” She waved her hand around to indicate the inside of the carriage.

Potter just looked at Lily with wide, frightened eyes, as Black chimed in: “Oi, Lily, we were just afraid that little ol’ Snivelly” he got a resounding ‘smack’ on the head for that. “Snape” he corrected himself hastily “could get lonely.” He looked at Lily with big, puppy-dog eyes. “We just wanted to help him.”

Lily’s tone was sharp like a Hippogriff’s beak: “Just how stupid do you think I am, _Black_?”

All the while Snape eyed her with a strange mixture of awe and disbelief.

“I’m staying here.” Lily announced, crossing her arms. Now focusing her angry energy on Severus, she hissed: “And, you, stop starring, Snape.” He quickly turned around to look out of the window.

The journey towards Hogwarts passed in a tense silence, Snape desperately focusing at the outside of the carriage, trying to feign interest in the endless masses of trees passing them by. The sky was grey and cloudy, at least the never-ending rain had stopped.

The ride gave him enough muse to contemplate his differing relationship with Lily again. The last time around, Lily had ceased her protection after… the lake incident. Now, everything seemed to have changed after the little head injury of his. Maybe just dying had also played into his vulnerable state. He softly shook his head. He still didn’t quite understand.

“What are you thinking about, Sni- Snape?”, cut the annoying, whiny voice of Black through his thoughts.

“Nothing to concern your pretty, little head about, Black”, he drawled bored.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” Black immediately tried to batter his eyelashes in a seducing way and failed miserably.

“I have to admit” he scrutinized Black thoroughly “that your appearance exceeds your mental capabilities by far, but that” he paused, before continuing “should by no means be considered a compliment.”

He immediately focused his attention out of the carriage again, forcing any emotion out of his mind and face.

As they stepped out of the carriage, Lily held him quietly back as the two Marauders skittered off in the hopes of finding their two companions again.

“Where is your anger, Severus?”, she stood now in front of him, her green eyes searching his face.

He blinked: “What?”

“You”, she hesitated now, her eyes looking past him and he noticed that she was holding his arms “You’ve always been so angry and… defensive these last… years.” She looked back into his eyes. “I’m almost worried it isn’t there anymore. I’ve seen you far too often just sitting there and staring off into the distance.”

Severus swallowed. Was that true? He subconsciously rubbed his throat, his skin disconnectingly intact. Staring again. Right. “Why do you care?”, he blurted out.

She immediately recoiled. Snape face palmed himself mentally. Why did he like people so much whose mere presence seemed to transform him into a blundering dunderhead?

“I, I didn’t mean it like that, Lily.”, his tone was definitely far to pleading.

“Uh”, she crossed her arms in front of her breast, lifting one of her eyebrows.

“I just, you know” Merlin’s balls. It had been his job to be self-assured and convincingly. A wonder he lived as long as he did. “I thought you didn’t want to speak to me anymore.”, it came out far too small, unsure. Exactly how he felt.

Lily looked away. She took a heavy breath in. “I never wanted to cease all interaction to you, Sev.” She used his nickname? “I just wanted you to change, not to go” she paused “dark. And somehow, you’ve changed over Christmas. You don’t seem like a wannabe Death Eater anymore.” Her eyes searched his face: “Do you?”

Severus Snape was speechless and yes, looked utterly confused. It had been that easy? A simple choice between Death Eaters and Lily? “I do not wish to become a follower of the Dark Lord anymore,”, he said slowly. “if I’m interpreting what you were trying to ask of me correctly.”

It seemed to have been the right thing to say, because Lily beamed at him. “Oh, shut up. Most of the time people understand my attempts on communication perfectly well.”

He just raised an eyebrow at that and she swatted him on his arm.

They locked eyes, he for the first time in years daring himself to see the real Lily, red, thick locks, and wonderful almond-shaped green eyes, the only difference to his memory her wide smile, lighting up her face and most confusingly directed at him.

It was different, interacting with the real Lily. She managed to surprise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it. :)
> 
> Edit: Haruno Asahi found some mistakes for me.


	3. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your kind comments are very appreciated. :)  
> I was just a bit busy but I'm very grateful for all your lovely messages.

During dinner, Snape kept for himself. It was weird, being a student again. His table companions were far more childish and… loud in their interactions. He glanced at his old seat longingly. Then, however, he remembered how Dumbledore would always seat him next to vile creatures like Umbridge, or even that grinning fool Lockhart. He shuddered at the mere thought. The fifth year opposite him burped distastefully. Snape sneered at him. Here, at this table, he could at least choose his own misery.

After the meal in the great hall had ended, Snape found himself in front of the Gargoyles to the headmaster’s office, lurking in the shadows. Besides the fact that he didn’t know the password, he was also hesistant to meet this old acquaintance of his. He was painfully aware of the picture the headmaster most certainly had of his past self, a very correct one, if one was true with one’s self. Snapes' task wasn't helped by the fact that he had spent a lifetime perfecting and nurturing a Death Eater persona and wasn’t quite sure he could hang up that cape. The best actor, after all, didn’t act, but became his role.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus noted a small movement. It was the Deputy Headmistress, also creeping around the Gargoyles, uncharacteristically stalling.

“Professor McGonagall.”, he called out.

She swirled around. “Mister Snape”, her voice was brisk. But something was amiss, in her posture, nervousness?

“I have to speak with the headmaster. And, as I was under the impression that our destinations were congruent, I had hoped you could escort me there. The common student holds no knowledge of the office's password, after all.”

Her eyes narrowed at his words and, her nervousness forgotten, she fell back into the role of a strict teacher. Dealing with students was known territory for her. “And why, Mister Snape, would you acquire to speak the headmaster?”

A smirk played on Snape’s lips. He loved to rile his old colleague up. Why not tell her the truth? “My mind bares knowledge of the future. It seems that my inner eye has finally opened.” He even let some Trelawney-esk pathos creep into his voice. He had learned from the best.

“The Future?”, she asked sharply. His answer appeared to have thoroughly rattled her, she was looking at him with wide eyes, not the reaction he had expected.

“Yes”, he continued nevertheless “but my inner mind’s eye gets very easily disconnected by overly critical thinking going on in proximity. That’s why it works best if I’m surrounded by students.”

She had begun to pace in the middle of the corridor, in front of Snape, and to quietly mutter to herself. From time to time she fired dark glances at him. He watched her with mild interest. Suddenly she turned around and fixed him with a glare like a cat examining its next dinner. He instinctively tried to take a step back, but was disappointed by a cold stone wall in his back. She, whilst starring him down and taking one step forward, demanded coldly: “You will tell me something about my future, Mr Snape, to proof your claims.”

“Well…” he was cut off by her sharp glare.

“One of the worst things that’ll ever happen to me.”

They were now standing directly in front of each other, each of them breathing heavily, their wands somehow drawn, staring in each other’s eyes.

Snape slowly opened his mouth.

Her blue eyes desperately searched his face.

He whispered: “There will come a time, when Slytherin wins the Quidditch-cup six years in a row.”

Her eyes widened comically. “Until I’ll bend the rules to get a new Seeker.”, she breathed.

He gasped quietly.

They both stared at each other flabbergasted.

Both of them tried to speak, and then fell silent again.

“So, you also ‘remember’ a future life?”, Severus asked, awkwardly.

Minerva nodded: “I have to apologize to you, Severus, for the truly ghastly manner I treated you the last time we”, she paused awkwardly to fiddle with her fingers: “met.”

The thoughts in Severus brain seemed to run a mile a minute: “How do you…?”

“Oh” she smiled fondly “Harry Potter. He made your motivations abundantly clear when he finally defeated Tom Riddle.” She smiled when she noticed the red spots on Snape’s cheeks. “Who would have thought you’d be such a romantic?” It was more of a grin than a smile now.

“Would you please just shut up, Minerva.”, he snarled.

“Why, _Mister_ Snape, is that the right tone to address one of your teachers? Beware, I may have to deduct house points from Slytherin.”

He just glared at her entirely to happy face behind the curtain of his black hair. The conversation desperately needed another topic. “So, how do we tell Albus about this whole future-knowledge-mess?”

Her eyes gleamed evilly: “We have to go back on him for all his future-secrecy. How about going all Trelawney on him?”

“We would need some scarfs.”

“You’re talking to a Transfigurations-Professor.”

“Shall we claim to have seen something in the leaves of our coffee-cups?”

“Maybe the mash on our plates formed some meaningful patterns.”

A cry of terror cut through their happy conversation. They immediately fell silent, a quiet conversation passing through their eyes and then ran down the corridor, towards the noise.

As they cut their last corner, they were greeted with the sight of Sirius Black with both his hands on Remus Lupins’ neck, lifting him up and trying to strangle the werewolf against the wall of the corridor. Lupin’s feet dangled and kicked the air, his hands desperately clawing at his attackers’ arms and his face began to sport a very unhealthy colour of blue. On the other side of the corridor stood James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, seemingly to shocked to intervene. Black had no time to react before he was blasted away by two powerful red beams of Stupor.

Lupin clattered unceremonial to the floor and Minerva promptly rushed to his side. He had landed directly in one of the beams of sunshine, which came through one of the windows on the opposite side of the wall. He lied there, a tangled mess of limbs, pathetically gasping and… Snape swirled around towards Potter and Pettigrew whilst dropping on his knees to avoid a hex hurried his way. Pettigrew’s face was now facing Severus fully. Snape recognized the eyes in his face instantly. They were red. He shot a disarming spell towards the human rat and blocked the next attack. Out of the corner of his eyes he could discern Potter attacking McGonagall, who stood protecting before Lupin’s coughing form.

He didn’t block the next spell but threw himself to the side at the same time throwing a Petrificus Totalis at his enemy. The power of surprise breached his enemy’s defences, and he clattered stiff as a board to the ground. At the same moment Snape was slammed against the wall. He saw stars and desperately tried to focus his sight on his enemy.

It was Black again. Wearing a predatory grin, his eyes burning red.

A loud: “Don’t you dare!”, was the last thing Severus heard before he was violently drawn into unconsciousness. Getting hit on the head two times in such close succession probably wasn’t the smartest thing Snape had ever done.

 

He woke up to sight of a familiar ceiling. People were talking. Apparently making use of a frequency not optimized for his hearing. Familiar twinkling, blue eyes shoved themselves into his line of view. Snape just groaned and hid his head under his pillow. Oh, the joys of the Hospital Wing.

“There, there, Mister Snape, you will have to face the world again sooner or later. Or should I maybe address you by your proper title, _Professor_ Snape?”, Severus whipped his hand around and just glared at the twinkling eyes of the old man.

“You spoke to Minerva?” he growled out.

Albus’ look turned calculating, and he leaned back in his chair, laying in his fingertips together. He watched Snape through his half-moon-spectacles intently as he said: “Yes, yes. She even showed me some very interesting memories.” He paused thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over towards a group of people huddled around another bed. Severus spotted red hair. “It seems that there are three headmasters of Hogwarts present. One of them probably the youngest in decades.” Fawkes landed on Dumbledore’s shoulder and he petted absentmindedly his head.

“If you would please just cut to the case, Headmaster.”, Severus voice most definitely held not a whiny component. He was sick for Merlin’s sake. That’s why he was here. To get some rest. Not to listen to some bumbling old fool. And he was most definitely not relieved to hear that fools’ voice again.

“I was wondering, my boy, if you could tell me more about the attack you faced.” He looked meaningfully over the glasses of his half-moon-spectacles. “If you maybe noticed something important.”

Severus gulped. “It was the Dark Lord. I saw it in their eyes. He was somehow able to get into Hogwarts and I’ve got no meaningful information of the future about this event.” He let his head flop on his pillow and closed his eyes annoyed. He stayed a while like that. Just relaxed.

As Snape finally looked back to the headmaster, he seemed to be lost deep in thought, absentmindedly stroking his Phoenixes' feathers on his lap.

Finally, he focused his gaze again on Severus: “Tell me, my boy, how would you describe our future-relationship?”

This was an almost impossible verbal answer for Severus to give. He looked up, into Albus’ blue eyes and opened his mind, offered some of his memories to him. They were small ones, both of them arguing in Albus’ office; Severus ranting at something, animatedly gesturing and pacing the room with wide strides, whilst Albus just sat there and listened; Albus always calling him “my boy” and offering him Lemon Drops, Severus would inevitably refuse; Severus quarrelling with Albus’ portrait, when he sat alone in the headmaster’s office again.

“I say”, the headmaster mumbled softly: “There was a lot of bickering going on.”

Severus’ conscience calmly floated away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse will hopefully give me a very good snog at the weekend.  
> I will try to update this story on Fridays and Mondays. (no guarantees)


	4. Chapter 4

His throat was being ripped out, all his blood spilling out of his body, colouring his hands red. A sea of blood surrounded him now, not all his own, but belonging to the ashen-pale bodies that were floating by. They were too far away to be recognized but he knew that it was their blood sticking to his hands. He held them up, before his eyes. The blood was partly drained, a dark, brownish red following the creases of his hands. But some of it was still fresh, and dripped down from his palms, marking long crimson lines on his forearms.

He awoke in the dark. His sheets were all wet and clammy, and his body shivering from the cold.

Severus took a few seconds to take several deep breaths to collect himself. His nightmares seemed to have gotten worse since he died. He saw the snake, Nagini, again, and forced some deep breaths into his stomach. Everything was fine, he could handle this, he always did. Her sharp teeth, cutting through his flesh, ripping it apart, all the red blood and then… green eyes, staring at him, seeing his soul, like no one else would. He should have asked McGonagall how the boy had managed to defeat Voldemort. How he even somehow managed to survive this whole bloody war, if he had read her reaction to Harry Potter’s name correctly. But he hadn’t. Why?

_Because you’re a coward, Severus._

Snape replied to himself. He knew that talking to oneself was ‘the first sign of insanity’ but his year as headmaster had been a rather lonely one.

_You don’t want people to know that sometimes, you do care._

_Because caring makes you vulnerable._

_And being vulnerable means bad things will happen to you._

Of course, his logic was flawed, no denying that, but his experience said otherwise. Severus sat up to retrieve his wand.

“That was intense.”, a soft voice to his left said. Severus swirled around and immobilized the shadowy presence in one fluid motion.

He curiously enlightened the tip of his wand to get a look at the person who had so rudely startled him.

It was the werewolf. At least, tonight was nowhere near full moon. Lupin laid stiff as a board on his hospital bed, his sheets rumpled and wide, surprised eyes focused on Snape.

Severus cancelled his spell with a sigh and a flick of his wrist. “What do you mean, Lupin?”, he asked snidely.

Lupin’s body relaxed noticeable but he still scrutinized Snape with interest. “Your dreams.”, he said softly.

Snape felt his body stiffen in response. He couldn’t help a note of defensiveness to creep into his question. “What about them?”

The dim light in Snape’s right hand casted long shadows over the werewolf’s face. It made him look older beyond his years. Lupin seemed to contemplate his answer carefully. “They were… quite physical.”, he paused for a moment. “But utterly silent. It seemed like you were fighting… against… someone.”

There was something in Lupin’s eyes that didn’t belong into a conversation about Snape’s overactive fantasy. The werewolf had averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Severus noted that he hadn’t moved his head, his neck still had to hurt. He studied Lupin’s face more intently. It was…, yes, the werewolf looked… hurt?

Severus’ thinking speeded up. Why should the Marauder care about Snape having nightmares? It seemed counterintuitive that Lupin would behave like that out of sympathy. No, it was something else.

Of course.

“This dream wasn’t about you, werewolf.”, his voice was unnaturally loud in the silent dark that surrounded their bubble of light.

Lupin startled and then shot him a dark look for the way Snape had chosen to address him.

Severus suddenly wanted the conversation to end. He killed the light, whilst announcing: “I’m going back to sleep.”, in a grumpy voice.

They were laying in the dark again.

Severus stared empty up, imagining that he could see the stars. One couldn’t do that properly in the city, another thing the Muggles had messed up with all their electricity, but out here at Hogwarts, when the night was clear, one could appreciate how full of light the night sky actually was.

“Thank you.”

“What?”, Snape was up and glaring into Lupin’s face again. The brown-haired teenager desperately tried to protect his eyes from the sudden brightness Snape had bestowed upon him.

Severus dimmed his wand a bit and Lupin could finally let his arms down. “For helping me.” The werewolf was still blinking owlishly but otherwise looked utterly earnest.

Snape stared at him in shock. People didn’t thank Severus Snape. He blinked once as he tried to process this foreign concept. He opened his mouth to answer. After all, he had just done his duty as a teacher.

_But you aren’t a teacher anymore, Severus._

_You’re a student, whose only ‘duty’ is to hand in his homework in time and not behave like a prat towards teachers and other students._

Lupin was still looking at him with a curious expression. Snape just killed the light again and laid back down. He had no nerve for something like this.

 

Snape was awoken by quietly, but repeatedly whispered “Sev”s and soft nudges into his side. As he groggily blinked open his eyes he looked into familiar green ones. Lily smiled at him brightly before she exclaimed rather loudly: “Oh, what a surprise! You’re awake. Maybe then, Madame Pomfrey can _finally_ release you from the hospital wing.”

Severus heard a sigh and Madame Pomfrey with a very annoyed look on her face came into his line of view.

As she held Severus’ chin with an iron grip in her left and waved some fancy patterns with wand before his eyes, he heard her speak to Lily. “When I said he should sleep in, I actually meant that he should sleep in, young Lady.” Poppy looked back at him. “You’re fit to go, young man.”

Snape dressed himself quickly and let himself be dragged out of the Hospital Wing by Lily. Lupin had still been asleep. Severus partly envied him of that.

He found himself in an empty classroom, facing Lily. She seemed to be burning with questions. “Let’s sit here.”, she indicated one of the school desks in the front row.

She said opposite him and looked at him expectantly. “I want to know everything, Sev.”

It was still fairly early in the morning, in fact, the outside of the windows was still pitch black. The classroom would stay empty for quite some time. He raised an eyebrow and looked back at her. “Everything?”

She rolled her eyes. “About yesterday. There were rumours that an unknown attacker had infiltrated the school and attacked you five” – the Marauders and him – “and Professor McGonagall.”

She went on: “That doesn’t explain however, why only you and Remus have ended up in the Hospital Wing and why James, Sirius and Peter haven’t been let back into their dorms.” – Albus and Minerva had at least done their job properly. – “So, what do you know about this?”

Severus hesitated. “So, let me get this straight, I am supposed to be your informant in this matter? What about Lupin?”

“Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let me bother him.”, Lily shot back quickly.

“What else do they say about yesterday’s incident?”, he asked.

She looked at him funnily “I rather imagined our talk to go the other way round, given the fact that you were actually there and so on.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Yes”, he explained rather patiently “but I am also the one who was knocked unconscious in the beginning.” He raised his eyebrow back at her.

She sighed exasperated. “Of course, I have to inform my informant. You know, you would make a lousy spy.”

Severus got a coughing fit at that.

She just looked at him displeased. “Well, it is said that McGonagall defeated the attacker by using Levicorpus. Other sources claim that she is also able to transform herself into an Hungarian Horntail and burnt the attackers to little, crispy pieces before she ate them.”

Severus, who had just recovered from his coughing fit, almost choked on that and fell of his stool. That however made Lily burst out in laughs.

They were occupied like that for quite some time.

Finally, Severus managed to get his head back up over the edge of the desk. “Whoever came up with that nonsense?”, he wheezed.

Lily was still seized by some occasional giggles. She grinned. “One of the first year Hufflepuffs. Professor McGonagall must have made quite an impression on them.” She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing again.

Snape couldn’t help but chuckle as he seated himself once more.

Lily smirked at him. “Back up here again? I had the impression you wanted to stay down there.”

“Oh, shut up.”, he mumbled amiably. He sat himself straight. “Well”, his smirk matched her expression “it is time that I fulfilled my job as your informant.”

Both their expressions became serious again. Lily even leaned a bit closer and looked at him with wide eyes. She nudged his arm as he didn’t speak quickly enough. “Come on, now.”

Severus took a deep breath. “It wasn’t an attacker in the sense one would probably expect.”

Her eyes widened and urged him to get on with his story.

He hesitated. “You have to promise me that nothing of our conversation will leave this room. This information has the potential of causing a mass panic.”

Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. But she whispered “I promise.”, nevertheless.

He went on: “Pettigrew, Potter and Black were obviously possessed.”

She gasped quietly. “Do you know by whom?”

“Well”, he said uneasily “there isn’t a great variety of people with enough skill and sufficient motive out there, is it?”

She gasped again “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Merlin’s Balls.” She stood up. “Wow.” She looked back at him. “You’re not pulling my leg or something like that, are you?”

He tiredly shook his head.

She said: “Wow”, again and flopped back on her seat.

They sat together in silence until Professor Flitwick shooed them out so he could prepare his class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, guys, gals and variations thereupon, this is my first fanfiction and I have made the astonishing discovery that writing is quite hard and time-consuming work. 
> 
> My thanks go out to everyone who is bothered enough to read what I produce. Special thanks to people who leave nice messages.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel inspired to leave constructive criticism, be my guest! Or just let me know what you think about my story.


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